


Indulgences

by FreshBrains



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Community: starwarsfruitbowl, Dessert & Sweets, Established Relationship, F/F, Family Fluff, Food, Meeting the Parents, Post-Movie(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 12:36:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5928793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshBrains/pseuds/FreshBrains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The only thing Rey loathes, amidst the hard training and sore muscles and headaches, is the fact that she knows sweets exist around her but she cannot always eat them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Indulgences

**Author's Note:**

> For the DW Star Wars Fruit Bowl [Femslash Challenge 2016](http://starwarsfruitbowl.dreamwidth.org/580.html).
> 
> At the end, there's some non-explicit sickness after eating too many sweets.

Rey would never admit it, not even in her own mind, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t mourn the fact that she’d gone straight from one bare-bones lifestyle and directly into another.

There’s little to complain about during her training with Master Skywalker—he’s kind, he’s patient, and most surprisingly, he’s sort of a goon, which offers Rey endless amusement. Sometimes he feels like a father, sometimes an older brother, sometimes a teacher, but he’s always a soothing presence in her life.

The only thing she loathes, amidst the hard training and sore muscles and headaches, is the fact that she knows sweets exist around her but she cannot always eat them.

“Excess isn’t good for anyone in training for _anything_ ,” Luke always says as they tuck into a perfunctory meal of protein cubes and nutrient paste every evening. “It makes you accustomed. It makes you _comfortable_. And trust me,” he says through a mouthful of tasteless beige, “that’s when things will really get wild.”

“Yes, but _one_ cake once in a while is not going to make me accustomed,” Rey grumbles. She’s never hungry, _ever_ —Luke sees to that. Her body is strong and healthy, getting the exact amount of nutrition it needs to thrive. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have desires.

“Rey, have you forgotten about _other_ indulgences I’ve permitted you?” Luke sets his mouth in a thin line, obviously hiding a teasing smile as he clears away his dishes.

Rey flushes furiously, taking a gulp of her bantha milk (which, despite the odd color, is the sweetest thing she’s tasted since living with Luke). “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

As if on cue, there’s a knock at the door—only a select few people knock instead of using the vidscreen, knowing that Luke prefers the simplicity he had on Tatooine. His and Rey’s small home outside of the D’Qar base is much like that on his home planet—small, utilitarian, but unmistakably lived-in.

Luke nods at Rey, smiling smugly. “Aren’t you going to answer that, Padawan?”

Rey glares at him as she wipes her mouth on her napkin. He laughs when she checks her hair in the reflection of the conservator before rushing to open the door.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” Jessika says before Rey can even see her face. The doorway is low, and though Jessika is not tall, she still trumps the architecture. She ducks down and greets Rey with a smile. “Did I interrupt your meal?”

“We were just finishing,” Rey says, ushering Jessika inside. Before she can stop herself, or save face in front of her Master, she tugs Jessika in for a hug, craving the scent of the other woman’s musky perfume mixed with anthracite.

“I’ve missed you these past few days,” Jessika murmurs, hands firm at the small of Rey’s back. She presses a kiss to Rey’s cheek before glancing sheepishly over Rey’s shoulder. “How’s the Force, Master Skywalker?”

“Holding up,” Luke says dryly, smiling at Jessika. Despite his misgivings about Rey having a romantic partner during her training, he adores Jessika, mainly because Jessika adores him—not for his role as a Jedi Master, but for his “super awesome legendary” piloting skills. “How’s the black?”

“Dark,” Jessika fires back, grinning sweetly. “Just got back from a two-day mission on Hoth to gather old machinery parts on Wampa Mountain. I must say, I’ve had enough of the cold already.” She links her and Rey’s fingers together, and Rey honest-to-goodness _giggles_ , which she knows Luke will file away for future emotional torment. “And the rations were rough this time.”

“Hm,” Rey says, glaring at Luke, “I know a thing or two about that.”

Jessika looks down at the paltry bowls of beige paste and grimaces. “Okay, you win. Master Skywalker, what are you feeding my girl?”

“I’m feeding _my_ apprentice what she needs to be a strong Jedi Knight,” Luke says. “And in my opinion, she’s doing just fine.”

“I suppose so,” Jessika says, poking at the new layer of muscle over Rey’s stomach, making her squeak indignantly. “Can I take her out tonight, just for a few hours? I’ll have her back before you do that prayer thing before bed.”

“Meditation,” Luke says, “and sure.”

There’s a part of Rey that knows she should be annoyed—she’s been on her own for her entire life. She’s never had to ask anyone to do _anything_ , she just did it. But she’s too happy to have people watching out for her and caring about where she is.

“So, I have a plan,” Jessika says the second they’re out of earshot, looping her arm around Rey’s waist.

“Always exciting,” Rey says, leaning into her girlfriend’s touch. She instantly feels Luke poke at her shields, quite _rudely_ , she can imagine, and tells him to shush. “Tell me.”

“I want to take you to Dandoran,” Jessika says, looking over at Rey as they walk side-by-side. “I want you to meet my mother.”

Rey feels a pleased flush crawl across her cheeks. “Do you mean it?”

“Of course,” Jessika laughs, tugging Rey in closer. She’s in her civilian clothes after her mission—loose cargo pants and a soft sweater, all gentle angles and cozy lines. “I’ve met your old man, so you should meet my _māma_.”

“Luke is _not_ my father,” Rey says. “And I would love to meet your mother.” She pauses on the sidewalk. “I’ve almost forgotten my own mother. It will be nice to see you two together.”

“Sweetheart,” Jessika murmurs, brushing back Rey’s hair. “She’ll love you, I know it.” They share a quiet moment on the footpaths winding in the back of the cottage, the sound of D’Qar forest life milling around them, the snow just beginning to melt under their boots. “And there’s one more thing.”

“What?” Rey imagines brothers and sisters, aunties, boisterous cousins, and wonders if Finn would like to come along someday, too, to have a family of his own again. She’s getting ahead of herself but can’t seem to care.

“ _Māma_ owns a bakery,” Jessika says, a mischievous glint in her eye, and Rey just _has_ to tackle her into a hug that ends in maybe a little too much kissing, considering they’re still practically in the yard outside the house and Rey can feel Luke internally screaming.

*

“It’s so _green_ here,” Rey says, eyes wide with awe as they exit the slowly-unloading transport ship. Despite Jessika’s desire to fly her and Rey to her home planet herself, Rey wanted to take the interplanetary transport, since she’d never been on one before. “Greener than D’Qar, even!”

“You should see Dagobah,” Jessika says, voice boastful but sweet. “While we’re here, I’ll take you to the rice streams. I worked in them until I was old enough for the Academy.”

“I tasted Ghoba rice once, with Finn, on Corellia,” Rey says.

“We grow it for Deuterium-pyro here,” Jessika says, wrinkling her nose. “It’s a nasty drink, though. _Māma_ always kept me away from the factories.”

Rey is still looking around, hair whipping against her face every time she turns her head. She holds onto Jessika’s hand tight. She turns to face Jessika, cheeks flushed with excitement. “Thank you,” she says. “For taking me here. For letting me into your world.”

“ _You’re_ my world now,” Jessika says softly, giving Rey a wink.

“ _Stars_ ,” Rey gasps, stopping on the tarmac as passengers bustle around them. “You look just like her!”

“Jessi,” a woman shouts from the crowd, waving cheerfully. “Jessi, over here, my lovely!”

“Come on,” Jessika says, face breaking into a grin, and leads Rey over to the plump woman in a red flour-stained dress and heavy combat boots. “ _Māma,_ ” she says, jumping into her mother’s arms.

“My baby girl,” Mrs. Pava says, hugging her daughter tight, smearing pats of flower on the back of Jessika’s jacket. “Come home at last, my busy, _busy_ baby girl.” She wipes her tear-stained cheeks, then looks over Jessika’s shoulder at Rey.

Rey feels a shiver of nerves in her stomach—she’s never had to impress anyone before in this way, never had to make herself look like a good, normal girl who would be a good partner for someone’s child. She makes friends easily (which Finn can attest to) and considers herself an eager pupil (though Luke may have choice words), but as for a lover, she’s lost in space.

That feeling fades just as quickly when Mrs. Pava gives her a warm smile.

“And you must be Miss Rey,” she says, and nearly shoves Jessika aside in haste to hold Rey close. “I’ve heard so much about you, you brave girl.” She smells of something so familiar it makes Rey ache—milk, and grass, and _sweetness_. Mrs. Pava pulls back, inspecting Rey closely. She has dark brown hair a shade lighter than Jessika’s, styled in a messy knot on top of her head. “Oh, but you’re so _thin_. Good thing my Jessi brought you to me!”

“That’s the plan,” Jessika says, taking Rey’s hand once more. “Who’s at the shop?”

“Oh, the kitchen girls are fine,” Mrs. Pava says with a noncommittal wave, “We put podracing on the televisions in the bakery, so now they’re up to his elbows in kessinnamon rolls for the local boys. Good business, but _awful_ when the favorite loses.” She loops her arm through Rey’s elbow. “You’re a pilot like Jessi, yes?”

“Only a bit,” Rey says modestly. “I’ll attend the Academy next year if my Master allows it.”

“Well, he _better_ ,” Mrs. Pava says fiercely. “The way Jessi tells it, you’re the best untrained pilot she’s ever met.” She leans in conspiratorially. “And, in her words, cute as hell.”

Jessika groans. Rey can’t stop smiling.

*

The bakery, located on the corner of a quiet intersection just off the commerce district of East Dandoran, is called simply “Pava’s,” and if the smell wafting down the street was any indication, it is the most wonderful place Rey has ever seen.

“What _is_ that?” She says, tilting her had back in ecstasy as the breathes in the warm, sweet scent. “It’s like bread, but covered in sugar!”

Jessika and her mother share a grin. “Donuts,” they both say.

“Donuts,” Rey repeats, trying out the odd word. “The only nuts on Jakku came from ration packets, and they were usually rancid by the time they filtered down to me.”

Jessika makes a noise of displeasure, fingers laced through Rey’s. “Don’t worry. These ones are like nothing you’ve ever tasted.” She leans in to press a kiss to Rey’s cheek. “And we can have as many as we like.”

They enter the bakery just as a group of humanoid fieldworkers rushes out, bemoaning the loss of their favorite podracing team. “Blast,” Mrs. Pava says, rolling her eyes as she holds the door open for the girls, “now we’ll get the sad ones, looking for pity. Too bad a pity party doesn’t put credits in our pockets.”

“Sports are big around here,” Jessika whispers to Rey, and Rey nods sagely, like she’s taking it all in. Then her eyes widen. “Stars. _Stars_ , is that _all_ for sale, to eat?”

Jessika grins. “Absolutely. But today, it’s on me.”

Rey is starry-eyed as she walks slowly towards the counter. The bakery is nearly empty with only a few stragglers watching the post-race vids on the holoscreen above the snack bar, and a fresh batch of donuts is cooling on a durasteel rack. They’re frosted in dozens of colors—pale pink, cream, bright blue, and best of all, flight-suit orange in Jessika’s honor. “What are the flavors?”

Mrs. Pava winks at Jessika before disappearing into the kitchen. Jessika, treasuring a sacred bit of quiet time with her girlfriend, helps Rey onto one of the countertop stools. “The darker ones are chocolate brown sugar. They go best with the caf icing, the light-colored stuff. Would you like to try one?”

Rey bites her lip. “I don’t know. I’ve never had chocolate _or_ caf before.”

Jessika wants to gasp, but holds it in. “As a baker’s daughter, I can’t imagine a childhood without chocolate. You _definitely_ have to try some.” She lays a clean napkin down on the table and breaks a donut in half, giving Rey the larger piece. “Small bites at first. It’s _very_ rich. It’s like butter and sugar and something you can’t even explain.”

“I think I can handle it,” Rey teases, and pinches a piece of soft, fluffy dough between her index finger and thumb. She gives the pastry a delicate sniff. “My gods. It smells like _heaven_.”

Jessika laughs, nearly rocking with anticipation. “Go on. Try a bite.”

“You as well,” Rey urges, nodding towards Jessika’s half. “I want to try it with you.”

Jessika feels her face break out in a pleased flush, tamping down a rush of affection for her girlfriend. She knows Rey can feel her emotion and makes no effort to hide it. “Let’s do it, then,” she says, and takes her half.

*

“See? This is what happens when no one listens to me. Galaxies get destroyed, empires reign, and my padawan spends the evening bent over a bucket.” Between Luke’s complaints, he rubs a soothing hand over Rey’s back.

Rey wants to snap back with a clever retort, but instead, she heaves once more, shoulder buckling. “I should’ve stopped at six,” she groans, wrinkling her nose.

“I told you to stop at three,” Jessika says, coming back into the bedroom with a damp, cool cloth. She wrings it out and presses it to Rey’s forehead, soothing her sugar-induced headache. She swaps the bucket out for a new one. “Hey, at least we made it out of the transport!”

“But not into the ‘fresher,” Luke grumbles.

“But we have _buckets_ ,” Jessika says cheerfully. “C’mon, Master S. It’s all part of the experience.” She tucks Rey’s hair behind her ears to avoid contamination. “A little goes a long way, but sometimes you just gotta have a _lot_.”

“Especially for someone who’s always had… _little_ ,” Rey interjects, resting her cheek against Jessika’s knee. She’s pale and obviously exhausted, but she’s still smiling, her face serene even through the sickness.

Luke just sighs and stands. “Well, how am I supposed to that?” He grabs the old bucket with a grimace. “We’ll resume training tomorrow. Get some sleep. And you,” he says, pointing to Jessika, “stay the night. Take my cot.” He’s gone before they can say anything.

“I guess you’re stuck with me,” Rey says dryly, using a cloth to wipe her mouth.

“Guess so, sweetheart,” Jessika says, smiling down at her girl. “You’re stuck with me, too.”


End file.
